A Rockin' Time
by Pokepika's Haunt
Summary: It's Marcy's eighth gym Badge, the last one she needs to compete in the regional league. A battle set on a stage for meant for big stars unafraid to be heard, against Gym Leader Rachel of Santaluna City; the rockin' drummer of Golem Quake. Request fic done for Baracar, enjoy! Rated T for cussing and safety reasons!


A/N. A request fic from Barbacar, for Barbacar!

Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer: Rachel is Barbacar's, I own nothing!**

* * *

 **A Rockin' Time!**

* * *

Marcy's entrance at the Santaluna Gym is a bit like a bad bar joke.

There's something in there about a scrawny fourteen-year-old, her overprotective _ass_ of a pretentious brother, and a furfrou with an attitude to put any moody sixteen-year-old _human_ to shame. And she's about as nervous as one is probably supposed to be when facing her final gym before the league.

It's a rock-type gym, of course, because it's _always_ the rock-type gym that she winds up having to face last.

It's certainly not that she doesn't _like_ rock-types, but she doesn't have a single pokémon on her team with a type-advantage, just several pokémon that know moves that will probably wind up saving her ass somewhere along the way. And she knows piss all about this gym other than its known for being chronically loud even on a quiet day.

Supposedly, the gym leader is some famous drummer in a band, like Roxie from Unova – who she jams to like an addict, or so her nuisance of a brother says. _Kine_ , the bastard, snickers in the corner and makes her want to sock him in the face, but they both wind up amply distracted when that one guy who shows up at all her gym matches thus far approaches the two of them beaming like an idiot, with both ears covered.

"Hey-o, Champ-to-Be!" the robust man greets as he normally does – rocking on the heels of his feet like he's _two_ years old, instead of something more like forty-two. He's got that increasingly stupid grin on his face, but it never fails to make her feel better about her odds when it comes to pokémon gyms and their leaders. "Watch out when you go in there! Rachel's a hardcore chic with a flair for the loud and boisterous. She really knows how to rock!"

If the man were any more subtle, he'd be a stampede of tauros and bouffalant running down a heavily populated street where the only shops all sold fragile, ridiculously expensive china. But the hint is appreciated none-the-less, even if she already knew what to expect when it came to pokémon long before she'd actually walked through those sliding doors.

Mostly because in order to the challenge the gym, she had to buy a concert ticket of all things, and there was nothing but pictures of rock-types and the band's logo across the front of it. It's a neat little thing though that has her grinning like an idiot herself when she pulls it out distractedly, valiantly ignoring her brother's sarcastic eye roll and deftly dodging Furfrou's attempts to eat it before they even see the gym leader.

"Watch out for the traps as well, they can be pretty nasty if you're not ready for 'em. Oh, and her fans are pretty rabid too. Don't get taken down too easy either, or you'll find yourself flying when you get to Rachel. Good luck!"

She nods, it sounds simple enough anyways.

* * *

But things are never simple in her life, as she's quickly come to discover, and while she was prepared for something a little crazy, she's not nearly prepared enough for the sheer insanity that apparently constitutes a Golem Quake concert.

It's loud, she can barely hear herself think, and either there's speakers everywhere or it's the entire floor, but she swears her brain rattles every time the bass goes down. It's beautiful, fantastic even, and the song is something she recognizes as a frequent play on the station she keeps her radio tuned to as it hangs from her neck.

She _likes_ it, and its only made better by the sheer fact that her brother practically pisses himself trying to take it all in, before trying to crawl his way to the relative safety and sanity of the front entrance.

"Come on!" she calls, barely coherent over the general noise level that is the audience and music, "I need my groupie, I won't do well otherwise!" Kine is about five years her senior, a pokémon breeder in the making, and a complete wimp even at the best of times. But he's got a sister complex she has no qualms with abusing, so the near fully grown man yanks on his big boy pants and tries to look brave.

She won't tell him how epically he's failing because she's loves him all the same, but she can't help the shit-eating grin that splits her face and they both know what its hiding behind wickedly amused teeth. "Let's go!"

"Fine, fine!" He gripes, all complaint and simultaneous resignation. He knows if he tries to back out even now, she'll never let him live it down because she's his little sister, and that's pretty much her job.

It's a record somewhere out there that it takes good five songs before anyone challenges her to a battle – most are distracted by the concert going on, and as it turns out, the aforementioned traps are only bad if you suck at keeping a beat. It's her brother who gets most of the challenges, because the boy's got two left feet and can't keep a rhythm to save his life. On more than one occasion, she's had to stop and wait while he plays catch up because he got himself booted to the beginning of the gym again.

It's funny to watch the first, maybe, three times, but after a while it starts to wear on her patience, and she's beginning to think her brother is more idiot than is strictly warranted in a single human being.

At least his pokémon is dependable, in stark contrast, even going so far as to _dance_ with her as they slowly weave their way through the vibrating crowd.

But she didn't come here for an easy time, and a battle is welcome. The song switches to something bass heavy that gets her head bobbing, and the trainer standing across from her is some obvious groupie who was yelling something about babies and marriage not three seconds ago, right about the time she'd accidently bumped into him and gotten his attention.

Because her pokémon are just as musically fanatical as she is, they spend half the battle distractedly dancing and the rest beating up enemy pokémon. The groupies and roadies are all pretty chill about losing, and they simply pat her on the shoulder and compliment her and her pokémon's dance moves when her team wins.

* * *

There's a challenge to it, in the traps and the trainers she encounters, but nothing gets particularly trying or serious until she gets to the actual band. And then she almost loses, _twice_. Fortunately her brother is just a few medical supplies and a chansey or audino away from being a walking pokémon center. So he heals all of her pokémon up for her because at this point that is literally all he is good for.

Now she stands across from Rachel, feeling oddly pumped, rather than the nervousness she expected to be plaguing her. The songs have been good, the battles equally so, and she thinks she might just be ready for this battle. Regardless of whether she wins this or loses.

Rachel doesn't say much as they stand across from each other on the biggest stage in the entire building. She also doesn't pause one bit as they finish their most recent song, simply quirking a brow at her, like _how dare you stand on stage with someone like_ _ **me**_ _._

It's a challenge, one she's more than ready to take, and though the lights overhead make her feel slightly lightheaded she's too pumped on adrenaline to give it much notice.

"Rachel! I challenge you to a gym battle!" There's no verbal response, but the woman – pretty, with pale skin and something like rock and steel in her eyes and a cigar between her teeth – flings her pretty red hair back, pounds away a powerful but short beat that sends the crowd around them into an upheaval.

There's a spark that flies up as her drumsticks hit the cymbal, and it lights the cigar quick and easy. Rachel grins like a persian.

Marcy decides right then and there she likes this gym leader.

* * *

The first pokémon to grace the field for the gym leader is a massive beast of a gigalith, pure rock with a body that allows it to take hits and keep going. It stomps its feet twice, loosing a battle cry in the form of a roar, and glares her down with a gaze like steel. She grins, answering that unsaid challenge with one of her own.

Her pokémon aren't exactly cut out for taking on rock-types. They're all bulky walls that take hits better than dishing out, and her pokémon are all about dealing damage. She's never really concerned herself with type effectiveness either, so none of her pokémon have an advantage that allows them to take hits and keep rolling. Since it's a rock band though, she might as well set-up for the rest of her team.

The fact that this is a four-on-four goes completely unsaid.

"Let's go! Kirby!" She tosses the round ball in the air. It flies high, someone's camera flashing and momentarily blinding her before the little carbink drops to the stage with a thud. The various lights flashing off the diamond-like protrusions, making the dual-type look particularly stunning, something the little thing obviously appreciates. "Let's start things off! Stealth Rock!" Her own little rock-type glows briefly, tossing up sharp shrapnel to hover around on her opponent's side of the field.

Gym leaders don't usually make a point of switching out their pokémon frequently like your average trainer does, but the point is extra damage without using up a turn. Even if it doesn't do a _lot_ , it'll be better than nothing. "Now use Skill Swap!"

Whatever Rachel wants her pokémon to do, the woman doesn't say. Instead she raises both of her drumsticks high, clicking them in some kind of countdown, and then her pokémon takes off underground.

"What?"

"Marcy! Watch out!" She loses her cool, for three good seconds she loses her cool and because of that Kirby takes a lot of damage. It almost goes down, but luckily Skill Swap had made contact before the opponent's pokémon had disappeared. The poor dear's hanging on, probably won't survive another hit either, but if she can get some more prep-work done, it won't be in vain.

"Quick, use Reflect and Light Screen!" Injured as it is, Kirby still manages both attacks, about the same time another quick set of beats gets bumped out on that drum set, and the gigalith does a Rock Climb that takes poor Kirby out permanently for the rest of the match.

It's done its job though, gotten what little experience out of it that it could. She's more than proud of its efforts. "Good job, now come back and rest." She orders before tossing another pokéball out, this time one of her faster pokémon.

"Let's go Umbra!" The dark-type eeveelution hits the field with all the sass and grace she normally expects from the little beast. She's all attitude and no humbleness to be found, but she's _fast_ for her species, and at the very least she can trust her to finish up what Kirby started.

There's a quick session of drums, one of the other bandmates strums at his electric guitar, and that might be cheating. She's not entirely sure. The gigalith is off in a second.

She refuses to let it escape though. "Kirby got taken out!" she tells the dark-type, and that's all the little monster needs to know. She's off in a second, following the rock-type at its heels for a good minute before she manages to corner it at the edge of the stage.

Umbra kicks it back with a well-timed Retaliate, followed by an Iron Tail that loses half of its power due to what she can only assume was a hastily placed Harden. She's slowly beginning to figure out what Rachel's shtick is, so to speak.

The woman doesn't talk to her pokémon, she was plays with them. Taught them to follow cues via the drums and whatever beats their trainer plays.

It's a lot like her traps in a way.

It's _fun_.

"Rain Dance!" which saps the power out of any fire-type attack, but that's just fine, "Finish it with a Hyper Beam!" It's a near thing when the gigalith goes down, just barely not fast enough after taking so much damage to dodge. The overpowered normal-type move finishes off what's left its health despite the type resistance and it goes down with a solid thud. There's a cheer all around, but neither side is near done.

They've both still got three pokémon left, and something tells Marcy that this is going to be particularly close.

* * *

It's about half way through the match, with Umbra finally down after a drawn out battle with an aerodactyl that wouldn't hold still for two seconds and ended in a tie. Rachel sets off fireworks in the meantime, often for seemingly inane things, but the woman is nothing if not confident.

And that both infuriates Marcy, making her reckless, and thrills her at the same time. Rachel has clearly earned every bit of confidence she exhibits, with everything she does.

"Ready Burn?" She asks the feisty lizard that is her long standing starter. Her father had brought it home with him as an egg one day, and as her brother never failed to remind her, was just like his trainer in every conceivable way.

Including his refusal to evolve past his second stage.

"Let's start this song with a Bulk Up!" The lizard, every bit his trainer, snaps his teeth and spits fire like he's been insulted. Her brother rolls his eyes somewhere out of the corner of her eye, she knows he would.

Rachel, still confident and self-assured in a way Marcy can't help but envy, simply smirks, clearly liking her fire-types gall and lifts her drumsticks to her still lit cigar. She's not entirely sure what the woman plans on doing, until the beat suddenly gets a lot faster, and a lot more aggressive.

The next pokémon to set foot on the field is a fucking tyranitar. And she's hated dealing with those things since Matt caught one and began using at every opportunity to beat down poor Burn. This one doesn't have nearly the same mean streak Matt's does though, and it seems almost bemused by its opponent before settling into a stance that clearly says how its going to take the two of them seriously.

That's more than she's ever been able to say for either Matt or any of his pokémon.

The ground won't stop shaking every two beats with the next song, guitar heavy and blood pumpingly good. But she and her pokémon bounce with it. They slowly pad the trade of blows out until Marcy can figure out what each set of drum beats mean and can come up with a plan afterwards.

Bu the battles no less good.

"Burn, hit it with a Metal Claw!" She calls, ducking under a sweeping Hyper Beam that only goes as far as two feet from the edge of the stage and peters out in a show of control that honestly impresses Marcy as much as it terrifies her.

Burn leaps over the sweep of claws and teeth that is Rachel's beast of a rock-type chasing the sly lizard before it has to stop due to Hyper Beam's unfortunate side effect. And Marcy is nothing if not an opportunist. "Metal Claw again! Than sweep it up with an Iron Tail."

Both attacks hit home, but a tyranitar is never an easy opponent. And it gets right back up and brushes off the attack like one might lint or dirt. It roars a challenge, asking if that's really the best the two of them can do.

Marcy and Burn feel equally insulted at that, especially when Rachel mimics it in her own expression, pretty eyes daring her to make a move. To prove her _wrong_.

"Burn! Set the field on fire!" It's a frankly stupid move. Completely pointless considering how much of the field is fireworks' shrapnel and also, already on fire. But it's just confusing enough to through Rachel and her tyranitar off their game. "Inferno!" There's an unsaid order for a Protect-Bulk Up combo they've been working on for weeks now and only recently gotten down.

A Rest-Sleep Talk combo helps to restore what health and stamina Burn has lost in the last few minutes, while allowing it deal damage to the opponent's pokémon while she waits for Burn to wake up.

Protect's an honestly weird move she doesn't normally make use of, but in situations like this it's been more than helpful. And luckily Burn's up in a few turns without only a few scratches.

"Metal Claw!" She saws, at the same time that Rachel orders her pokémon to do something particularly devastating. The tyranitar goes down, _finally_ , but not before a Magnitude 10 goes off and knocks poor Burn clear out of the fight.

They're now both down to one pokémon a piece.

And this is her eighth gym badge on the line, the last one she needs to compete in the league and prove that she isn't just another girl with a pretty face with a bad attitude. That she can be as strong as her sissy of an older brother and even more so than her glamorous sister whose head is now so far up in the clouds nobody's heard from her in years.

She'd already determined what pokémon she was going to use in this match, long before she'd set foot in this gym. But she doesn't _want_ to use her last pokémon

It's not even that he isn't _good_. He's fantastic, one of her best, but he's also one of her more bullheaded pokémon.

He refuses to go down if he can still pull himself up to keep fighting, even if that's just barely off his knees. One day he could get seriously hurt doing things like that, and she cares about him far too much to let it get to that point. So he always winds up hating her because she's constantly recalling him from fights too early for his liking.

Kine says it's because her pokémon's no quitter, and doesn't want his trainer to turn into one. She doesn't think that's worth his life though.

"I'm depending on you Geeks, but don't do anything stupid you hear me?" She questions as she calls for the pure dragon-type at the same time Rachel releases her last pokémon – a golem, go figure.

"You've been a pretty good challenge, but I'm going to send you flying right here and now!" Rachel finally says after nearly an hour battling. Or at least that's what it feels like.

Marcy can't help but banter back though, because she always have to have the last word.

"Sorry, I've got no plans for that today, but maybe you can tell me what the weather's like the next time we see each other!" They grin at each other, all vicious teeth against what her brother has been insisting for the past thirty minutes are pretty faces. She wants to hit him, she highly doubts Rachel feels much different.

" **Let's finish this!"** they both yell to their pokémon because they're just that into it at this point.

Geeks roars, something that sounds unfortunately cute for an unfortunately cute, fully-evolved dragon-type. But there's power in every step and and the Rain Dance is still going strong from a little over twenty minutes ago, maybe.

"A 1, a 2, a 1, 2, 3 go!" One of the band members calls out and the battle takes off at exactly the right moment, Geeks opening with a surf that if the pokémon were any less in control of his own power, would've drowned the entire audience in enough water to make a mini ocean.

Marcy comes out of it soaked to the bone, Rachel comes out of it dry as a kite, because of course the woman does, and her pokémon has somehow magically dodged a move that she is fairly certain should've hit the bloody thing.

When Geeks realizes that that's not going to work because it already failed once, he spins into the air with a Dragon Tail that comes slamming down on the rock-type's head like a boulder.

The two trade blows for about a minute without input from either trainer, as far as Marcy can tell, then they split apart. Growling and angry and all teeth.

"Hit the ground!" She calls and an earthquake splits the stage in two suddenly, interrupting the song and causing Rachel to her rhythm as the drum set moves with the continued quakes.

The woman snarls something fierce and rude, but doesn't hesitate to order her freshly injured pokémon back into the fray.

The dual type doesn't hesitate for even a second, and rolls into a Rollout that's going to hurt if she doesn't get Geeks to do something soon.

"Surf, one more time!" She shouts, the move rushing past the violently spinning boulder and lapping at Rachel's sandal clad feet. The woman picks up speed as she drums away unperturbed, and Geeks uses the cover of water to slam another Dragon Tail into the stage and send himself flying into the air above their heads.

This time, he comes down a little less like a rock slide, and a lot more like a sledgehammer. The stage cracks beneath the weight of the landing dragon as Golem tries to hold up her pokémon's weight, a near fail but then it nearly throws her dragon into the audience.

He comes skidding to a stop an inch short of going over the edge and accidently sitting on some poor sod, but he doesn't wait to jump back into the fray like he always does. Head first and not brain.

"Muddy Water!" She orders, to cover up her next move. Geeks doesn't wait for the second command, flooding the stage again to slow the rock-type, who tanks the hit like a boss before it winds up nearly keeling over due to the following Earthquake.

It's the second Earthquake that apparently wins her the match, Rachel losing her rhythm in the next three seconds and drumming so quickly her drum kit explodes in her face in a violent show of fireworks, smoke, and flames.

The woman sits there, dazed, dumb, and stupid for all appearances, looking shocked and covered in soot.

" _Encore, encore, encore, encore!"_ The crowd cheers around them, loud and excitable. With the adrenaline pumping through her system it's too easy to get carried away.

"Let's finish this Geeks! Use Hyper Beam!" The move strikes home sending the gym leader careening into the air alongside her pokémon and the shambled remains of her drum kit and the crowd still cheering.

She feels stupid then, in the next two seconds, realizing just how ridiculous and unnecessary that was. Kine is sure to scold her for it later. But then the other band members approach them, handshakes and a couple of good-natured hair ruffling abound before pressing the gym badge into her hands.

"Don't worry about Ray, that happens every time she loses a battle. You did good though, Kid!" The lead singer, an Anthony Bones, says with a nod and something like pride spilling out in between his words. "Looks like this is your eighth gym badge, right?"

She can't help but nod, Kine coming up to join her and glaring at all the big scary men obviously out to steal his cute little sister from right under his nose.

Please note the obvious sarcasm.

"Yep!"

"Well then, after that show I'd be sorely disappointed if you lost the league to some two-bit rookie not even half as good as you! Ray too. So make sure you win!"

"Right!" she grins, and somewhere behind her, Kine groans like all he needs in life is more people to encourage his sister's reckless tendencies. "I'll show 'em what-for!" She grins, all manic energy and adrenaline still coursing through her bloodstream.

"Well, you've earned the Pillar Badge! So go get 'em, Tiger!" She nods her confirmation, before snatching up her older brother and just about peeling out of the gym like some demons on her heels. Or a horde a beedrill.

She stops slightly short though, turning around just briefly to demand autographs from the whole lot of them. They laugh and nod, with a promise to get Rachel's for her at some point later on.

She winds up watching them all leave, piling into the tour bus in more of a heap then in any actual order and driving off at speeds sure to get them pulled over by the police later to find their missing gym leader.

"Well, let's go Marce!"

"Oh shut it, Kine!" she barks at her brother, trailing at his heels before darting in front of him, grin wide and feeling proud as she eyes her brand new shiny badge alongside the seven others. _'I earned this.'_

 _ **I earned it!**_

A/N. There you go, Barbacar! Hope you liked it, and it was certainly fun to write! See ya all!


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